


Others Like Us

by Bagell



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 3x21-3x22 coda, Emotions, Sort of? - Freeform, it's related to the sneak peek, of the sexuality-related variety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 17:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18665452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagell/pseuds/Bagell
Summary: "I mean, think about the message that would send to others like us."A boy's mother comes into his study one day to usher them to the wedding of a new era.





	Others Like Us

**Author's Note:**

> this is unbeta'd and written in the last hour or half hour so there may be,,, lots of mistakes!!
> 
> still though, i had many emotions with That line because Alec has grown so much :") and the fact that he wants to spearhead that growth for others, not just to say fuck you to the organization that hates his fiance but to hold his fiance's hand as they show others that love is beautiful and love is allowed and love is okay and there's nothing the clave can do about it? siggghhh poetic cinema

“Tyson!”

The young boy looks up from the texts he’s studying, runes and history and such that he’d rather not go through, but is so important in growing up a fine Shadowhunter. Or, whatever. Something like that.

He calls back. “Yes, mom?”   


She steps into the study (because of course, he, a thirteen year-old, must share his father’s study. His family is one of the more laid back ones but still, it’s so pompous), inside shoes scuffing a bit on the rug. Soft wrinkles line her face, growing more obvious over the years, especially when she smiles so warmly at him.

She places a piece of paper-- an invitation, on his desk. Tyson raises a brow and picks it up.

He reads, eyes scanning quickly and impatiently before stopping, brain stuttering. Then, he reads aloud, slowly, processing, trying to fathom.

“You are cordially invited to the wedding of.” He pauses. “Of Alexander Gideon Lightwood and Magnus Bane.” His tongue slows over each name, twisting like his mind is internally. He can’t seem to keep up with what he’s reading or saying, grasping at the simple yet foreign words that he for some reason can’t understand.

His mother doesn’t bother, dusting her hands and picking up a coat. “Hurry now, it’s tonight, and New York is another timezone. We can get a portal from your father’s friend Joel to get the right attire.”

But Tyson is still scanning the words, hands shaking a little as he grips the small slip of paper, the delicate parchment crinkling beneath his nails.    


It’s so strange to hear something out loud that you’ve thought on the subject of for years but never said until this day.

The thirteen year-old feels air coming into his lungs, in, out.

“Mom?” he asks, tentatively, voice sounding so strange amidst her bustling.

“Hm?” She’s a little fazed at his behavior but doesn’t stop walking around the room, gathering his things. He doesn’t notice.

“Are they…”

Okay.

Here goes.

It’s not him.

He can just--

“Are they both guys?”

Everything pauses.

Except, it doesn’t.

His mom keeps packing up his texts into a bag, keeps searching for that damn document with the contact of that suits shop. 

There isn’t a moment too long for a pause in conversation before she’s replying. “Yes. They’ve both been political partners with our Institute for years. Separately, and more recently together.” She stops, but barely for a second. “Is that a problem?”

Tyson shakes his head, still looking down at the paper, but now unseeing. “No.” He swallows, and his voice is a little strange when he says, “No, nothing of the sort.”

It’s not a problem. 

Not with them.

And certainly not with him.

The six colored necklace under Tyson’s jacket just suddenly feels a lot more existent.


End file.
